


Dance With Me

by LilMissFerret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMissFerret/pseuds/LilMissFerret
Summary: A dance through love and life.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a few different things, namely two of my favorite country songs (Morgan Evans and Kelsea Ballerini's Dance with Me, and Lee Brice's I Don't Dance) and LovesBitca's Rights and Wrongs series.
> 
> There are also a few tiny nods to other stories I've loved over the years, most clearly in the perfumes which come from Rizzle's The Dragon's Bride.

**Dance With Me**

The Great Hall was a sight to behold. The thousands of candles had been replaced with the soft glow of fairies, and the long tables had been removed to make room for the dancers. The band had taken up the space where the teachers usually sat, playing a strange mix of classical and their own, modern hits.

He broke away from Pansy as a soft tune filtered through the air. The French Waltz, he knew, guiding his footsteps. His new partner spun into view, all sparkling eyes and laughter until she found herself in front of him.

She hesitated, if only for a breath, before dropping into a shallow curtsy, never taking her eyes off of him. Draco bowed in turn, stiff and wary.

Their palms met, warm skin against his cooler flesh. The girl narrowed her eyes, daring him to sneer and mock, but Draco found himself speechless as she twirled around him, flawless in her cloud of periwinkle tulle.

“Granger…” he started, his voice scratchy and unsure as she spun away from him.

She returned in a flurry of crimson, more grown up. Her face had lost any traces of baby fat, leaving behind sculpted cheekbones and eyes that had seen too much.

An elegant gold choker drew his eyes to the long, smooth lines of her throat where her pulse raced to match his own.

This dance was quicker than their last, full of passion and heat. Her steps were still precise, however, slipping her body ever closer, until her torso was pressed to his.

The touch burned, but he was helpless to pull away, mesmerized by her fluidity.

Quick as she came, she was flying away again, her fingers barely brushing his own as he spun her in a tight circle. She laughed, an impossibly light sound in the ruckus that surrounded them, but lit his soul on fire anyway.

He drew her in again, heart to heart, looking past the mask of silver feathers to search her dark eyes for the magic he felt. Her gaze wandered, cherry lips parting slight as they continued to sway.

Her mouth met his in a hungry kiss, as if she could devour him from the lips down. She tasted of fire whiskey and heaven, a heady concoction that addled his brains and left him wanting more. His hands trailed down her waist, coming to rest just under the hem of her short skirt, fingers splayed over her hips as she ground into him.

The pulsing music and the flashing lights only enhanced the mood, driving his libido higher and higher. Her own hands journeyed up to his hair, scraping his scalp softly with her nails.

She drew back, smiling softly. Clad now in a formal gray dress robes, her hair loose, cascading down her back. Everyone was watching them now. The constant flash of cameras always in the background. The Ministry was filled with gossip and rumors, but they turned a deaf ear to it all.

As another soft ballad circled them he pulled her close, hands threaded around her narrow waist.

“They’re jealous,” he told her, finding only love looking back at him. “They don’t know how I ever got so lucky to dance with the prettiest girl in the whole room.”

She blushed prettily, a rosy glow warming both of her cheeks. “You say that every time,” she reminded him, a playful glint in her eye.

“It’s always true,” he admitted with a shrug, adjusting his grip slightly before dropping her into a sudden dip.

The ends of her curls barely brushed the polished parquet floor as he pulled her back to him. She pressed a hand to her chest, balck nails painted to match her evening gown.

The crash of fireworks overhead, he stared at that dainty hand for a moment before drawing his gaze upward. “You know,” he pondered aloud, “the next time we go dancing, I would prefer you in white.”

“Oh?” she asked, following his lead as the waltz trickled over them, one eyebrow arched with curiosity.

“I was thinking a fall wedding, personally,” he continued, his face a mask as hers shuffled through a litany of emotions. “Autumn has always been your season.”

“You can’t be serious,” she told him, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Me?” he scoffed, gripping her waist a bit too tightly. “You were the one letting the Weasel  _ grope _ you on the dance floor!”

“Ron was not groping me!” she huffed back, trying, and failing, to extricate herself from his grip.

“His hands were all over you!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” 

“Oh,” he growled, narrowing his silver eyes, “so it means nothing when I do this?” He slipped his long fingers along her spine before dipping under the midnight blue velvet. His short nails skimmed the smooth skin just above her bum.

“Draco,” she warned him, her tone dangerous.

Undeterred, he sprawled his fingers along her skin, sending a chill up her body that threatened to make her stumble.

“He can’t have you,” he told her, voice thick with emotion.

“He won’t,” she returned, letting go of his hand to drape her arms around his neck. “It’s you I’m marrying, isn’t it?”

He smirked at her, leaning down to whisper into her ear. “You’re mine, Granger,” he purred before taking her earlobe between his teeth.

She chuckled, batting him away playfully. “That’s Malfoy to you, mister,” she replied cheekily.

She spread her left hand over his chest, admiring the simple gold band that complemented her ruby encrusted engagement ring.

“That might get confusing,” he laughed. Then, earning a startled gasp, he lifted her into the air.

They spun, once, twice, before he set her back down, lightly on her bare toes.

“Are you serious?” he asked, not daring to believe the words, still holding her tight to him.

“As a heart attack,” she breathed, grinning from ear to ear. He’d never seen her so alive, face positively glowing with happiness. They’d been trying, unsuccessfully, for months.

He spun them again, groaning dramatically when they came to a stop. “If your belly gets any bigger I won’t be able to do that anymore.”

She swatted at him, mouth agape. “Why you smarmy little ferret!” she screeched.

He avoided her hands, laughing, as he slipped behind his arms around her bulging middle. “No worries, love. We’ll simply have to dance like this,” he whispered in her ear, calming her as they began to sway.

They rocked together, the baby cooing softly in his ear, and her, so fragile looking, now tucked under his arm, wild curls pressed flat against his chest. It was a quiet song, a somber breath.

A tiny fist clung tightly to his hair, tugging the thin strands until they ached.

Surely he was going to go bald from the assortment of rainbow colored butterfly clips that had been wound tightly into his hair. And his poor toes were sure to be bruised, black and blue, from the sharp little feet that had clambered onto his.

Hunched over until his back ached, with a sticky hand clasped in each of his own, he wouldn’t have changed a single second of it.

He spun them in a slow circle, dancing to the sound of laughter and yet another Disney soundtrack.

As they swayed, he glanced up, catching the warm brown eyes that were watching them from the couch. She was lit up with joy, eyes bright in her too pale face. She smiled at him then, still mouthing the words to the song.

“Tale as old as time… Beauty and the beast…”

He closed his eyes then, breathing in the moment, happy and whole.

With them closed he could almost imagine he was back at his own wedding. The same ballroom, the same people, the same fabric under his hand, and the same soft curls tickling his nose as they twirled across the dance floor.

The only difference was the perfume. Cassie preferred the sweet scent of tea rose to her mother’s rich vanilla.

When he did drag himself out of his memories, Draco took a look at the beautiful girl in his arms. The white blond hair and pale complexion she had gotten from him, but everything else was all Hermione.

Her mother’s perfect nose scattered with tiny freckles, the wild curls barely contained in her fancy updo, and, most striking of all, the wide brown eyes that filled him with both great love and terrible pain.

She had worn her mother’s wedding gown, still just as lovely as it had been some twenty odd years before, but the silver and tanzanite jewelry had been a touch all her own.

“That boy doesn’t deserve you,” he told her, pulling his daughter in closer.

“James is a good guy, Daddy,” she laughed. “And, besides, it’s a little late to chase him off.”

“I knew Potter would be the end of me,” he sighed dramatically. “The noble house of Malfoy, extinguished!”

Cassie laughed again, burrowing her face in his chest like a small child, but when she looked back up at him silvery tears had begun to fall from her lashes.

“Don’t cry, Princess,” he shushed her. With the pad of his thumb he carefully wiped a tear, trying to preserve her makeup.

“I wish Mum was here,” she breathed, hardly above a whisper.

“She would be so proud of you,” he assured her, feeling his own tears begin to form. “So, so proud.”

A ragged breath raked through him as years of hurt and uncertainty resurfaced.

“She’d be proud of you, too, Daddy,” Cassie reassured him as the song came to an end. She drew away slowly, “You are the best dad a girl could ask for.”

She smiled up at him as he released her, eerily reminding him of that first dance, when his partner had moved on. He returned her smile with a little bow, watching, heavy hearted, as James Potter swept her into his waiting arms, and the music began to build.

Fin


End file.
